The Land of the Shaman
by goatheart
Summary: Chausiku is a mysterious cub. He can do strange things that other cubs, or even other lions can't. Amidst the power struggles, politics and curious mysteries of his world, Chausiku must master his strange abilities if he has any hope of survival.


**The Land of the Shaman**

**Prologue: A Moonlit World**

Deeply imbued in the soil of the earth is a spirit, the self same one that dwells in the sky above and in the hearts of all the animals of the land. Mostly this spirit flows through the world, immutable, unable to be swayed from its course, it loops on itself into infinity and creates the Circle of Life. But sometimes, very rarely, an animal is born that can control this spirit, can access it, can understand it. These blessed few, persecuted, worshipped, mysterious and obscure, live to serve the living and the dead and balance the world as they see fit. In some circles, they are known as shamans.

This is the story of a lion cub who would one day grow up to be the shaman of the Crownlands. Like all beginnings, his conception was a mysterious event, one that occurred without witnesses, perhaps it happened deep in the mystical womb of the earth, or perhaps between two ordinary lions. He would never know. Neither would anyone else, but whatever it was, and however it happened, it created Chausiku, he who was born at night, the lion who would unite the Crownlands and bring magic to the lions who lived there.

Many years before the events that shaped Chausiku, and the lands he came to love, a young lioness found herself wandering amongst the moonlit dunes of the desert kingdom. As it always was, the desert lay eerily quiet beneath the dark sky. There was no breath of wind to disturb the sand. In the daytime, the dunes would glow golden, and their heat, like coals, would burn a lion's paw mercilessly. But, in the night, the ocean of sand became frozen, frosted dunes, each grain glinting like a gem's facets.

She was a bleached silhouette, a genie in the moonlight. So quiet, she could not possibly be real. A true shadow. _Like my namesake. Kivuli. _Carefully, she picked her way through the sand, gradually ascending to the pinnacle of a sloping dune. Here, she was much closer to the sky, and it gave her a breath-taking view of the landscape. The deserts were as old as time itself, it showed its age in the wizened lines, long folds of sand that amongst its dark creases, held many, many secrets. Tonight she would add another one to the desert's ancient trove. Her gaze came to linger, eventually, on the feature of the land that did not recall dry, dust or searing heat. It was green, glimmering in the moonlight, a place where trees shot from the barren earth, and squat ferns waved their fingers towards her. There, the Oasis, and within, its King. She would not see him in the morning. _If I can help it. _

She took a deep breath, and as if hoping the wind would carry her words over the sands towards the regal lion sleeping in his leafy den, she whispered, "I'm sorry, Ashur."

Then, she turned away, her eyes stinging.

Now, Kivuli thought of the night ahead of her. She needed to escape the desert before the sun caught her. It would be a race of life and death. She knew her journey would be long and perhaps fatal but she was desperate. _This place is no place for me. _She cast away the thoughts that sought spirits and gods. They had only failed herbefore. Instead, she placed her faith in her paws that would run, in her memories, old and faded, and in fate. These would be her only guides. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and felt the wind pick up, blowing against her shoulders and neck.

She thought she heard it speaking to her, a distant voice in her ear. It grew louder, stronger, until she was certain that it was not the wind, but something else. Somebody else. Crying. She turned her head, listening.

Kivuli found that her paws did not run as they would have just moments before, instead they moved her back into the wind, and down the dune. Her breath appeared before her in crystal clouds. She shivered. The crying grew louder. She glanced out at the desert, pure and slightly pink in the darkness, she had not seen it before but there was something lying between the high dunes.

She moved closer, cautiously.

_I know that sound! _Delayed, her heart began to pound furiously in her chest. It was louder in her ears than anything else. The crying continued plaintively. She had heard that sound before. It was distinctive. Any lioness would recognize it.

She saw it clearly now. The tiny cupped ears, the soft, dewy fur, still stuck flat against a trembling body. The little thing's eyes were still closed. His small body was dappled with dusky spots of youth. Kivuli lowered her head to marvel at the round paws that were now straining towards her. The tiny cub cried, opening its tiny pink mouth to reveal tiny teeth.

There was nobody else around. Kivuli peered into the shining desert and saw they were alone. _Surely, he has parents…? _

"Hello? Is anybody there?" Kivuli called. "Hello?"

The desert responded with a resolute silence. The cub responded by mewling pitifully.

"Oh, my darling," Kivuli crooned, pulling the tiny thing towards her. He was cold, his fur tipped with icicles. His cries spoke of hunger. Kivuli knew that he could not have been older than a few hours. But, what lioness would leave her newborn? What lioness had given birth amongst these ancient dunes? And where was she now?

Unfortunately, the cub could not wait for her to answer these questions. His shaking, his weak cries concerned Kivuli. "You need to eat, little one." She murmured. _I cannot feed you. Your mother won't or can't. _

Kivuli knew only one way. One of the lionesses in Ashur's pride had recently given birth: she would have milk. "Come, my little darling. Let us get you out of the cold." Kivuli gathered the cub in her mouth, although there was not much to collect.

She nearly forgot her plans of escape, as she padded lightly back to the Oasis. But, the thoughts echoed, faded, in her mind. _Perhaps fate would not bear me away from you, Ashur. _

Another, new thought had replaced the old one. This thought repeated itself like a chorus in Kivuli's mind, it grew brighter and warmer until it spread through her entire body like light: _perhaps the Gods have finally answered my prayers. Oh please, let him survive, my darling, my little one, my cub sired by moonlight and born to the night. My Chausiku. _

The Oasis was buzzing in the dawn glow. The ibis were loosing their piercing caws into the sweet morning air. Ashur emerged from the den to find his first wife, Nura, already awake. At the sight of him, she frowned deeply, accentuating the heavy curve of her forehead and squeezing her dark eyes deeper into her face. "Kivuli has run away again." She rolled her eyes. "Foolish kitten! I always told you, Ashur, a pretty face hides an empty mind."

Ashur shook his head at his first wife. "Hush, Nura, she is still young." He looked very weary suddenly, but Nura did not appear to notice or care and she ploughed on with her tirade against Kivuli.

"Young she may be, but she is also useless. Where are her cubs? Where are your young lions and lionesses? She is just another mouth to feed. I say she is better off lost in the desert." Nura scoffed.

"Nura," Ashur growled in warning. "I will go look for her. I hope she hasn't gone too far. Look after Ishara while I'm gone." He told her. Nura scoffed, and then her heavy brow lowered as she caught sight of something behind Ashur.

"I will not need to. The stupid girl has returned already." Nura scowled as Kivuli burst through the thick plants that garlanded the Oasis. "What is she holding?" Nura demanded.

Ashur closed the distance between himself and his third wife. He first caught sight of her eyes, which were shining brightly. He had not seen such a sight for a long time. Then his eyes drifted lower to the strange something she held in her mouth.

"Kivuli, what have y-" Ashur began. Beside him, Nura came nearer to peer at the cub, her eyes were squinted, her brow sloped sharply.

"Where did you find this?" Nura spat.

Kivuli growled at Nura. The two had never gotten along. But then again nobody got along well with Nura. "_This_ is Chausiku." Kivuli snarled at Nura. Then she looked at Ashur, her expression softening. "Ashur. The gods have given him to us. A son. Our son."

Ashur's eyebrows were arched; he gaped at the squeaking cub in disbelief. "But, Kivuli, where are his parents?"

"I found him in the…desert. I was…taking a walk." Kivuli admitted. _While I was running away. _"He was all alone. He would've died if I…Did you want me to leave him there?" Kivuli implored.

Nura's expression screamed a very clear yes.

Ashur glanced down at the tiny cub. He sighed. "Of course not, Kivuli." He lowered his sandy head to give the cub a gentle lick on the forehead. Nura's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you hungry, little Chausiku? I think I can find you some good milk to fill that small belly." Ashur said. Kivuli beamed.

"Take him in?" Nura gasped. "He's not your cub!"

"He is _my _cub." Kivuli growled.

Ashur stepped between his bickering wives. He looked at Nura levelly. "And so he is my son too."

Kivuli stared at Ashur in wonder. As did Nura but for different reasons.

"Ashur," Kivuli breathed, moving forwards and curling herself into his mane. "Thank you."

Nura scowled again as Ashur smiled contentedly. With Kivuli's elegant, youthful body wrapped around him, the old lion seemed to radiate a masculine pride. He had _never _looked at Nura like that.

"Come, our son is hungry." Ashur murmured to Kivuli. The sound of his voice against Kivuli's neck made the hairs on Nura's neck stand up. She held back her growl as the happy couple slipped into the cave with their little blessing, leaving Nura to glower like the rapidly rising sun.

Chausiku settled easily amongst his 'sisters' as they all suckled at Ishara's swollen teats. The other cubs were slightly older than Kivuli's miracle cub, and so dwarfed him in size. The girls were all gold coloured like Ishara and, beside them, Chausiku was a tawny splotch. Kivuli ignored everything else except him, her eyes tender. She lay beside Ishara, watching her cub drinking another lioness' milk. Ashur also stood nearby, smiling paternally at his first son. Nura was in the corner, surrounded by her two daughters, Sauda, and Neem. They spoke in hushed voices, glancing darkly at Kivuli.

Chausiku grew quickly. At first, he had been runty next to his older, stronger sisters, but soon his voracious appetite put him ahead. She was proud of him, and often wished her parents could be here to see _her _cub. He seemed to blossom before Kivuli's eyes. Too soon, his eyes opened, revealing irises as red as the desert sunset. The sound of his clumsy, pattering paws on the den floor warmed her. Even when his eyes had been closed, he had followed her, perhaps hearing her heart and feeling her warmth or perhaps sensing that _she_, Kivuli, was his mother even if it was Ishara's milk he drank. She did not care that he was and would always be her only cub. He was more than enough for her. And, for Ashur. The lion doted on him. Nura was jealous of him, and Ishara treated him as one of her own. Kivuli had never been happier. Dreams of the night desert slipped entirely from her mind as Chausiku quickly filled it. Sometimes, she caught herself thanking Chausiku's mother for abandoning him. She hated herself for that.

_But nobody could love you more than I do, _She thought, watching her cub play with his sisters. And, it was true.

He had almost died once, and it was possibly the worst moment of Kivuli's life. Like many cubs, when his milk teeth began to push through, he became weak and feverish. Kivuli prayed and prayed. Perhaps in the past she had prayed to her gods, the ones her parents had raised her to respect and praise, but now she prayed to the frozen desert and its white lunar eye, which had given her the greatest gift: Chausiku. _Please do not take it away. Please do not take him away. _Kivuli did not sleep for days, watching over the little cub, smaller than ever. She had not eaten with the others, even though Ashur fretted and Ishara attempted to cajole her. _I cannot eat if you cannot. _One night, when the moon waxed complete, his fever broke and he could muster an appetite. Kivuli gave thanks.

Kivuli began to notice that Chausiku was different from the other cubs when he was a little older, old enough to play with his sisters and run towards her, tripping over his paws that he had yet to grow into. He often spoke to himself, but claimed that the voices of the wind, sky, earth and stars were speaking to him. Once, she had seen him lift a bone without his mouth or paws. The bone, a remnant of the desert oryx that wandered the dunes, had actually hovered before Chausiku's eyes like a leaf caught in a still wind. The idea still made Kivuli's head ache. She had cried out to Chausiku, and when his attention turned to her the bone dropped back to the ground and had lain still, lifeless once more. His sisters also began to notice his eccentricities and would not play with him. He became a solemn, reclusive cub, who was deeply attached to his mother.

Kivuli did not mind. The days she spent with Chausiku bathing in the rising and setting sun, splashing in the Oasis springs amongst the desert animals and the cawing desert birds, were still cast in a nostalgic gold in her mind, even if, now, those days were long gone.

She still remembered the last smile on Chausiku's face as he looked at his father, right before Nura's treachery had ended Chausiku's idyllic cubhood. Kivuli thought of that night only in her nightmares, and in the long hours of darkness when she craved the warmth of Ashur's touch, his fur, his soft tawny eyes.

As of today, it had been months since Kivuli had found Chausiku in the moonlit desert. He was a healthy cub, even more reserved now than ever. He had lost that plump youthful look about his face and tummy. Just as Kivuli had. They had clung to each other, as they braved the desert, running, running from Nura, Ashur's bloody corpse and Ishara's screams. They had supported each other as they weathered the cracked lands beyond the desert kingdom. They wandered the dark nights alone. Hungrier, thirstier, more desperate everyday. But every night, under the stars, Kivuli whispered to Chausiku old stories about a land of a white king, where they would be safe and where Chausiku would meet his grandparents, Kivuli's mother and father.

When she thought they would disintegrate to dust before they ever reached those fabled lands, the sun rose on the seven hills she remembered. "Look, Chausiku!" Kivuli cried. "There it is!"

"I had a dream about it, Mata. There was a silver river, grass and green trees, and seven hills where three great families reigned. There was also a cub, she…" He trailed off, blushing.

"A beautiful cub?" Kivuli asked, smiling at her son. He nodded, shyly. She laughed, feeling light.

"A paradise awaits us, 'Siku. I remember it all from when I was young. We will never be hungry, or tired or thirsty. We're safe now, darling. I promise." Kivuli told her son.

"I wish Dad was with us." Chausiku murmured quietly.

"Oh, 'Siku. Me too." Kivuli whispered. Her eyes prickled and her throat grew tight.

Kivuli may have thought that she and Chausiku were safe. She may have made her promises while thinking of the Crownlands of her cubhood. But, she and Chausiku were soon to find out that the place she remembered had changed just as much as she had. _We're safe now, darling. I promise._

By the end of the night, she had broken her promise.

* * *

**A/N: **So I thought I was taking a break from writing fanfiction. Then this idea hit me in the head like an anvil falling from the sky and I just had to write it. I'm quite excited about it, but I warn you now, I take awhile to update, but as my previous readers (of Heir to the Throne) know I do eventually complete my fanfics. Eventually. Also, this fic is set in the same universe as Heir to the Throne, as previous readers will realise as the story progresses. Finally, I will have you all know that I love reviews, I especially love constructive criticism and/or adoration, reviews also inspire me to write MUCH faster. But I am not holding anything over your heads ;) I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of the Land of the Shaman, and hope you enjoy all subsequent ones.


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